


Stole My Heart

by LeaOotori



Category: GOT7
Genre: A little bit of angst, F/M, Happy Birthday, Sorry for my shitty writing, Three Separate Stories, hope you like it, i love you babe, meet cute, one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 08:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeaOotori/pseuds/LeaOotori
Summary: Three little one-shots of OC KennaX Youngjae.Masterpiece: Kenna sees a face in her dreams that inspires her to work on her art gallery and finds its way into her art pieces. What happens when the man from her dreams (quite literally) shows up to her exhibit?Polaroid: Kenna has kept a little photo of a perfectly random stranger in her wallet for a long time. Nobody is sure who it is or why she had the picture, but she had some feeling about it that made her want to keep it. One day, she bumps into someone special. :)Forgotten: Youngjae was in an accident. After months of effort, he still doesn't seem to remember Kenna or their relationship. Will Kenna have to just let go?-- none of these are connected----HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRINCESS!!!! I hope you like them!!! <3 --





	1. Masterpiece

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kenna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenna/gifts).



> To my best friend and wife :)

**_Fic #1:  Masterpiece_ **

 

**_Author’s Note for Masterpiece: To My Queen, I was inspired to write this almost solely upon your cuteness coupled with your exasperation at the library. Somehow this was inspired, along with that comic, and I somehow intend to merge both at some point. I really love you and hope that you find love in this way._ **

**_Love, The Dark Queen_ **

 

Kenna groaned, head falling forward as her hit the table. “Oh my god, kill me,” she mumbled into the stubborn wood, sounding as though she was in horrible pain. 

 

“You alive?” Isha asked, raising an eyebrow as she flipped through her biology textbook, which was a clear decoy for her laptop as she scrolled through YouTube, not even phased at Kenna’s apparent frustration. 

 

“Unfortunately,” the blonde remarked, continuing to smush her face into the blank page of her sketchbook, as if trying to imprint her face into it. 

 

“Don’t die,” Isha commented half-heartedly, getting up to go over to the tiny kitchen in their apartment. 

 

“Thanks for the concern,” Kenna laughed, following Isha and sitting on the counter. “Make me food.”

 

Isha stuck out her tongue. “Ugh… but I’m so  _ lazy… _ ” she groaned, flopping dramatically onto the poor excuse of a fridge that crowded the corner of the closet-sized ‘kitchen’. 

 

“Pleassseeeeeeee?” Kenna pleaded, pouting. “I need brain foooddddddd… plus, if I don’t have food, I’ll fail.” 

 

Isha threw a bread slice at Kenna, wrinkling her nose. “Stop guilting me,” she sighed, even as she set out to make two plates of some Indian food that Kenna was too tired to think of a name for. 

 

“Thankksssss,” the taller girl sang, pulling out her phone. “Did you see that new Fallout Boy single?” she asked. 

 

“Kinda hard not to,” Isha shrugged. “You wouldn’t stop playing it.”

 

“It’s  _ good _ ,” Kenna defended herself, even as the smile grew on her face. 

 

The raven-haired girl grinned back, setting various vegetables to simmer in a dinky pan on the miniscule stove. “Fallout Boy aside, do you honestly have  _ no  _ ideas for your project?”

 

The blonde sighed, sitting back so that her head leaned against the wall. For whatever reason, Kenna had thought that it would be a good idea to take an art minor along with her major in botany. While the class itself was fun, she has spent the past year procrastinating on her final project, and with less than two months left, she had half of a painting done that she was probably going to scrap and redo later anyways. “There’s no  _ good  _ ideas,” she responded finally. “There’s nothing I actually want to do.” 

 

“You could just wing it for now,” Isha replied, picking through numerous spices that Kenna had been dying to label. “Maybe just go ahead and do a cliche landscape.” 

 

“But that’s  _ boring _ ,” The blonde groaned. “Go big or go home, Isha!” 

 

Isha rolled her eyes, rushing back to the stove to shut it off, the scent of lightly singed vegetables clouding the apartment. “Can you open the window, Kenna?” 

 

The taller girl hopped off the counter to open the tiny window in the living room of their apartment, standing in the fresh wind a little longer than necessary. There were a few people milling here and there, most of them university students. The sky was a perfect shade of blue, and Kenna was almost itching to paint it. “I’ll take the landscape idea if I can’t think of anything by next week,” she vowed to her roommate, looking over her shoulder.

 

“You know that whatever you do, I’m going to be totally proud of you.” Isha remarked, splitting the food into two plates. “I just want you to be happy.”

 

“Why the hell are you so supportive?” Kenna asked, grabbing her plate and sinking into the tattered couch in the living room. 

 

“Because you’re amazing and deserve the support,” Isha laughed, blowing a kiss.

 

Kenna smiled and made a weird face, making Isha choke on a laugh. They settled in to watch an episode of Supernatural, but Kenna’s mind was slowly wandering elsewhere.  _ If only my professor was as supportive when grading as Isha is.  _

 

**_~Masterpiece~_ **

Almost four days later, Kenna found herself sleeping the days away. She would wake up in the mornings, utterly miserable, get a coffee, go to class, and then nap until it was almost eleven at night, waking up at night to finish the last of her homework before spending hours on the internet, fruitlessly wondering what to do for the massive project that started sneaking up on her. 

 

Usually, Isha would be around to scold Kenna and at least  _ try  _ to get her to have a normal schedule, but with her finals approaching, she was usually at the library or someone else’s apartment, finishing up group projects and group studying for exams. 

 

As this unhealthy cycle began to become norm for Kenna, she found Isha milling around in the kitchen at eight in the morning, cooking breakfast. “What are you doing here?” the blonde asked, genuinely surprised.

 

The Indian girl snorted in response. “I’m worried about you, Keen Keen!” she sighed, wrestling the toaster as it refuses to spit out the bread it had unethically stolen. “You’re  _ literally  _ gonna die if you keep up this schedule.” 

“I know  _ that _ ,” Kenna responded, reaching for the coffee that Isha had likely picked up from the Starbucks down the street. “I’m just wondering what you’re doing here  _ now.  _ Don’t you have class?”

 

“I skipped,” Isha shrugged, pulling a slice of scorched bread from the jaws of the unyielding toaster. 

 

Kenna almost choked on her coffee. “What??” she wiped her mouth hurriedly. “What? Why? You have finals next week!” 

 

“It’s just a review, don’t worried about it,” Isha laughed, much more light-hearted than Kenna had seen her in a month. “I think that the primary concern here is that I’ve barely seen you for a week. I miss you, Keen Keen!”

 

“We text for literally four hours  _ minimum  _ every day.” Kenna deadpanned. As happy as she was that Isha was there, she didn’t want to be the reason her friend was skipping class. 

 

“But that’s different. Plus, I met a guy.” 

 

Suddenly, Kenna’s attention was diverted completely from the topic of skipping classes and her worries about Isha’s finals. “What??” she exclaimed for the second time that morning. “Spill!!” 

 

“I don’t think he’s into me,” Isha shrugged, sitting down with her own drink, a oddly demure glass of cold water. “And to be honest, I don’t really want a relationship either. But he’s  _ hot.  _ I like appreciating his face more than I’d want to date him, if you know what I mean.” 

 

Kenna smirked. “Yeah, yeah, makes sense. Where’d you meet him??” 

 

“Well, he was studying for the biotechnology final, and I needed help, so he kinda just helped me out--” 

“Oh my god, it’s like that tumblr AU, but in real life!!” Kenna fangirled. “Why are you so goals??”

 

“Honestly, Keen Keen, nobody is more goals than you,” Isha snorted, going back to leafing through some random textbook that Kenna didn’t even want to see the title of. “Maybe you should get to class though. I’ll save the more juicy details for later.” 

 

Kenna saw the clock and cursed, grabbing her bag. This mysterious guy would have to wait-- she  _ still  _ didn’t have a project idea, so being late to class probably wasn’t a way to build up goodwill. Screaming bye to her friend, she ran out the door, thankful for her track training as she scrambled into the campus bus just as the doors closed, adding to her already heavy feeling of impending doom. 

 

**_~Masterpiece~_ **

 

_ The sun was so bright that it almost seemed to glitter like one of Isha’s favorite gel pens. As much as Kenna hated sunburns and tried to avoid the outdoors in general, she somehow began to relish the feeling of the warmth on her back, somehow comforting like a warm blanket, yet not burning at all.  _

 

__ _ She was on a tiny cobblestone path, but she couldn’t see the end of it. Picturesque white buildings scattered the area around her, with green vines climbing up the sides. There wasn’t a single person to be seen, the only other living creature being a white tabby cat sitting on the porch of what looked like a small house.  _

 

__ _ Kenna half expected to see little old ladies and pies on windowsills and rocking chairs alongside rusted bicycles, but instead, the entire town seemed to be at a standstill, as if it were a snapshot. Not knowing which way to go, she stepped forward, to find the sound of a sudden rushing of water echo around her years.  _

 

__ _ Curious, she kept walking, gazing at the houses as she went. Suddenly, she stopped, to find a river at her feet. The town was gone, and she was left in a small clearing, the clear blue of the river lapping at her feet. Kenna wanted to stare at it forever and ever, but something in her head nagged at her, forcing her to look up. _

 

__ _ And there he was. He was tall, perhaps almost six feet, with smooth, pale skin and a tuft of perfectly fluffy hair that was just a shade darker than tawny. His bangs fell onto his forehead, yet they were short enough that she could make out his eyes. He was looking down, but when she stepped back in apparent shock, he looked up at her, effectively freezing in place. He had the prettiest eyes that Kenna had ever seen, a warm brown shaped like the almonds that she was unhealthily obsessed with, along with a perfectly sculpted nose that lead down to a perfect pout that somehow seemed to convey a silent challenge.  _

 

__ _ Perhaps it was the continued lessons and coaching from Isha, or maybe it was the excessive fanfic reading, but as her mind chanted ‘that’s a nice face’, her voice took on a life of its own, croaking out an awkward ‘hi’.  _

 

__ _ She watched his expression change with the quiet greeting, morphing into a silent laugh as his cheeks stretched the accommodate the prettiest smile that she had ever seen, eyes morphing into two perfect crescents.  _

 

__ _ ‘Holy shit,’ Kenna thought. ‘Kill me now, he’s so fucking perfect.’ Before she could process anything else or even feel embarrassed at his apparent laughing at her sad greeting, the trees seemed to dissolve into a stark white background, everything disintegrating slowly as she fought to stay behind and stare at the boy for a little longer. ‘Wait!!’ she wanted to yell, but the words got stuck in her throat. _

 

**_~Masterpiece~_ **

 

When Kenna woke up, she was grasping wildly at her phone, which was playing Lady Gaga’s  _ Poker Face  _ at a insanely loud volume. “Fuck,” she grumbled, trying to set it to snooze as she buried her head back in her pillow. 

 

No matter how long she stayed there, however, she couldn’t find herself drifting off like usual. Instead, she stayed stubbornly awake, the eyes of the mystery boy haunting the backs of her eyes. 

 

Finally tired of lying awake in the sheets, Kenna got up, cursing all the while. “Goddamnit dreams,” she mumbled, trudging to the kitchen. It was Saturday morning and Isha was laying upside down on the couch, watching the hell out of some music video she had synced to the tv. 

 

“You’re up early,” Isha teased. “It’s only nine.” 

 

Kenna sighed. “I had this weird-ass dream,” she confessed, grabbing a donut left over from the afternoon before. “I couldn’t sleep again.”

 

“Do tell,” Isha asked, pausing the video. 

 

Kenna hesitated. “At first it was like a fairy tale town, you know?” she said, struggling for the words to describe it. “But suddenly I ended up in a forest and there was this really  _ really  _ hot guy there and then he laughed at me--”

 

“He laughed at you?” Isha humphed, making a face. “Well that’s rude.”

 

“But he looked really  _ good  _ when he laughed so I’m not even sure if I’m mad,” Kenna admitted.

 

“If you were mad at a random guy in your dream, I would be worried.” The Indian girl pointed out, before jumping as her phone vibrated. 

 

“Who’s that?” Kenna asked as an attempt at idle conversation. Watching Isha’s expression change, and raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Is that the guy who was helping you?”

 

A coy smile snuck onto Isha’s face. “Maybe,” she said, tucking her phone back into her pocket without replying.

 

“What’d he say??” Kenna asked, obviously the number one fangirl for this unestablished ship. 

 

“He wants to know if I can meet him at the library,” Isha shrugged. “For last minute studying.” 

 

“Wasn’t your test yesterday?” Kenna asked, eyebrows furrowed together. 

 

“Exactly,” Isha smirked. There was a moment of silence before Kenna interrupted the temporary peace with a scream that resembled that of a pterodactyl. 

 

“GO GET ‘EM, TIGER!” 

 

**_~Masterpiece~_ **

 

With Isha gone on what Kenna labelled a ‘date’, the blonde girl was again alone in the house. At first, she managed to sit through a morning episode of some stand-up comedy show, but she found that everything kept on reminding her of the odd dream. 

 

It  wasn’t like her to dream in such clarity, and something about the high-definition beauty of the boy’s face kept her going back to it for the entire morning. Finally giving up on TV, Kenna pulled on a hoodie and jeans, heading down to the Starbucks on the end of the street for some late morning coffee. Ordering her usual, she stared out the window, almost ignoring the barista as she called her name multiple times.

 

Grabbing her coffee, she walked all the way back to her apartment, eyes almost fully glazed over. It was then that she stopped mid-sip, idea blooming in her still-groggy mind. Without even bothering to look both ways, Kenna bolted across the street, and into the apartment building, fumbling with her keys as she jammed them in a the lock. For the first time in what felt like forever, she was inspired. 

 

**_~Masterpiece~_ **

 

When Isha finally came home bearing news of a cute library trip touring the fiction aisles, she couldn’t find Kenna anywhere. She checked her best friend’s room last, only to find the blonde furiously working on something in the corner. 

 

“You okay?” Isha asked, plopping a bag of takeout on Kenna’s bedside table. “I got us burritos.”

 

“Thanks,” Kenna said, obviously distracted. 

 

“Again, are you okay?” Isha sat down on Kenna’s bed, already digging into her food. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m great,” the taller girl responded, obviously meaning it for the first time in almost a week. “Guess what?? I have an idea now!!” 

 

Isha’s eyebrow quirked up in a strange expression of what seemed like motherly pride. “Ooh, tell me!” 

 

“You know the dream I had this morning? Well, I want to put it into a painting. I know it doesn’t really make a lot of sense right now, but when I’m done, it will.” Kenna rambled. “I’m thinking oil paint.” 

 

“Can I see--” Isha began, about to get up.

 

“No! Not yet!” Kenna protested, turning the work so Isha couldn’t see it. “It’s ugly right now… I’ll probably have to redo it later--”

 

“Okay, but you have to promise I’ll see it  _ eventually. _ ” Her friend warned. 

 

“Well duh,” Kenna laughed. “We’re having an  _ exhibit _ .”

 

“True enough,” Isha nodded, motioning to the food still sitting on Kenna’s bedside table. “You gonna eat?”

 

“Yeah,” Kenna grabbed the bag, opening it to receive a blast of warm fast-food scented air in the face. “So, how was the date?”

 

“It wasn’t a  _ date _ ,” Isha whined. “It was just a study... _ hangout _ .” 

 

“You don’t even have any tests!” Kenna giggled, wearing an incredulous expression.

 

“We found a nice reference book we could use for the project next semester,” the black-haired girl protested, eyes crinkling as she laughed.

 

“I don’t believe that you didn’t at least make out,” Kenna mumbled through a mouthful of burrito. “Nothing that you say can convince me that you didn’t.” 

 

Isha rolled her eyes. “We just talked about fiction and books we read and stuff… he’s a real bookworm, but he hasn’t read fanfiction yet.” 

 

“He  _ hasn’t _ ?” Kenna asked, wearing a dubious expression which suddenly became blank. “I just realized I don’t even know his name.” 

 

“To be honest, I barely do either. He told me how to spell it when I was entering his contact, but I panicked and felt awkward about asking him again, so I just entered ‘hot dude’,” Isha confessed. “I think it’s spelled J-a-e-b-u-m? But I suck at spelling, so I’m not even sure.” 

 

“Regardless, when’s your next date?” 

 

“There’s not another date!” 

 

“What if you brought him to the exhibit?” Kenna asked, eyes alight. 

 

“But that’s so awkward!!” Isha gasped, burying her face in a pillow. 

 

“Tell him to bring a friend!” Kenna insisted, sure that it would result in a good outcome.

 

If only she had known what a bad result that resulted in.

 

**_~Masterpiece~_ **

 

Kenna was dressed up and fucking  _ ready  _ for today. She was wearing her favorite formal clothes, her hair was curled, she had a finished piece, and she felt  _ amazing.  _ She stood next to her piece in the exhibit, waiting for the clock to tick to 10:00 so the exhibit could start. She’d been texting Isha for a while now, who was standing first in line with this ‘Jaebum’ and his friend, jumping to get in. 

 

And Kenna was nervous as hell.

 

The clock seemed to go as slow as possible, until people began to rush in, mostly students and family members and professors. Kenna’s eyes searched the crowd, smiling at everyone who came to look at her work. Her eyes finally rested on her best friend, tiny in the crowd despite mounting a pair of towering 5 inch heels. She was sandwiched between  two tall boys, one of which she was dragging along by the wrist. “Keen Keennn~” she hollered, voice loud and unruly above the formal crowd surrounding her. “I’M HEEERRREEEEE!!!” 

 

Kenna had to fight back a laugh as she caught the bewildered expression of the boy Isha was dragging along. “Isha!!” She yelled in return, disregarding the annoyed expressions of the others in the exhibit, expecting the terrifying glomp-hug that her friend attacked her with. 

 

“Oh my god, I’m so proud of you!!” The Indian girl gasped, peppering Kenna’s cheek with kisses as she stood back to look at the work that sat framed next to the taller girl. 

 

It was three paintings, each several feet long and tall. They were stacked on top of each other and hinged in a way that reminded the smaller girl of a picture book. The first one portrayed a calm clearing in a emerald-green forest, a pretty blue stream flowing down the middle of the landscape. There was a faint figure highlighted in the center, seemingly glowing. In the second work, the vibrant colors of the forest seemed to dull into the background as the focal point zoomed onto the side of this figure’s face, revealing him to be a boy with luscious brown hair and pearly skin, seemingly looking down at something, deep in thought. 

 

The third painting was by far Isha’s favorite. Now the surroundings seemed to all up disappear, and the boy’s face and shoulders were the only things in the focal point. It was extremely realistic, along with the slight pout on the boy’s lips, the highlights and contours of his perfect face, and the little mole under one of his eyes. Isha found herself admiring the work in open-mouthed awe before something clicked in her head. 

 

She whirled around, wearing a look of confusion. “Kenna?” She whispered suddenly. “Who is this boy?”

 

“I told you, it’s the boy in my dream--” Kenna began. 

 

“Keen Keen,” Isha whispered, grabbing her friend’s arm and tugging her towards Jaebum and his friend. “Look.”

 

At first, Kenna was confused, watching Jaebum and the other boy peer at the first portrait in curiousity. However, this confusion suddenly shifted to utter regret, dread, and surprise as the unnamed boy turned in the slightest, catching the blonde’s eye. 

 

“Oh my god,” Kenna mumbled. The boy smiled at her-- the exact face she’d been imagining for weeks as she drew and painted the project, trying to remember every single detail. “Holy  _ fuck.  _ What have I  _ done?? _ ” 

 

**_~Masterpiece~_ **

 

Kenna was sure she was about to keel over and die. Dragging her hands down her face, she was ready to run out of the exhibit and never come back. She had done a fucking  _ project  _ on a guy that turned out to be real? Thankfully, Isha managed to drag the boys away from the painting before the managed to get past the first one, using the excuse of a food court and promising to come back to the exhibit later. 

 

This left Kenna alone to deal with the product that she couldn’t hide.  _ What do I do??  _ She panicked.  _ I can’t hide it, I can’t do anything!  _

 

So she stood there in absolute dread, wondering if it was too late to run. 

 

**_~Masterpiece~_ **

 

Unfortunately, even Isha could only control the boys for so long. It wasn’t even an hour when Jaebum brought her back along with his friend, saying that he needed to finish looking at Kenna’s painting. “It’s not that good,” the blonde chuckled awkwardly. “It’s already been awhile since you got here, maybe you should go now?”

 

Jaebum made a face. “Yeah, Jae, there’s a nice cafe down the street that we can have lunch at.”

 

“It’s not even eleven yet,” he responded. “Let’s look at this before we leave.” 

To the dismay of both girls, Jaebum wasn’t budging. Kenna prepared herself for impending doom as the two boys leafed through the three paintings, a small gasp falling from the still-nameless boy’s mouth as he gazed at the incredibly detailed portrait of what seemed to be his own face. 

 

“Youngjae, is that… you?” Jaebum asked.

_ Youngjae.  _ Kenna thought, turning over the name in her mind, mulling over it.  _ Somehow it’s fitting.  _

 

__ “I think?” Youngjae said, turning to face Kenna for the first time that day. “Is it?”

 

“It was a dream!!” Kenna blabbered in her panic. “I didn’t mean to-- I know it sounds really creepy, but I had a dream, and you were in it, and I made this and I  _ swear  _ I didn’t know you existed-- oh my god that sounds bad--”

 

Instead of being angry or creeped out like she expected him to be, Youngjae simply laughed. And  _ goddamnit  _ it was beautiful. The smile from her dreams had haunted her for weeks now, but paired with a real life sound, Kenna was quite sure she would always be able to hear the beautiful tinkling noise in the back of her mind. Her mouth worked to continue her apology (or her rant, she wasn’t sure at this point), but she found that her tongue had turned to stone in her mouth, a bright blush spreading across her cheeks. 

 

She caught Isha waving bye cheekily as she snuck away with Jaebum, leaving her alone with this fucking  _ beautiful  _ human being who probably thought she was some kind of creepy stalker now. 

 

Youngjae stopped laughing, but he still wore his pretty smile proudly. “I’m Youngjae,” he said, holding out a hand in an absolutely gentlemanly fashion. 

 

“Oh, uh…” Kenna shook his hand awkwardly, forgetting her own name for the moment in the presence of the godly human being waiting for her to speak. “I’m Kenna.” 

 

“Kenna,” he repeated, as if he was rolling around the name on his tongue. “Thank you for painting a portrait of someone who looks remarkably like me,” he punctuated the sentence with another chuckle, sending Kenna’s heart pit-pattering in her chest. 

 

“Uh… you’re welcome. Thanks for… having a nice face?” She said, not realizing her lack of a filter until it was too late.  _ Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit-- _

 

__ “You’re funny!” Youngjae cackled, having what looked like a laughing fit. “You’re an amazing artist too.”

 

She didn’t really know how to react, laughing awkwardly and instead making a flattered gesture that he hopefully understood. “I’m good at making stuff with avocados too.”  _ What the fuck Kenna?? _

 

__ “Are you?” the boy asked, sounding actually interested. He suddenly avoided her gaze, balling up a fist as he stuffed it in his pocket. “Um… if you didn’t mind, do you think that we could...maybe…” 

 

Kenna’s heart soared to her throat.

 

“Wouldyouwannahangoutwithmesometime?” The words came out in the blur, but she somehow still understood them. They effectively stopped her heart in her chest, her entire body freezing in place.

 

Watching her reaction, the boy flushed and took a step back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off like that, just forget it--”

 

“Yes.” Kenna said quietly, catching Youngjae in the middle of his sentence. “I would. Hangout sometime, I mean.”

 

A smile grew on his face again. “Really?”

 

“Yeah,” Kenna replied, face heating up as she tried to look anywhere but his face. 

 

“I guess I’d need your number then?” He asked, eyes sparkling with some emotion that Kenna couldn’t place.

 

“Yeah.” She mumbled again, handing over her phone to this handsome boy, seemingly in a trance.

 

“Thanks so much,” he said, grinning until Kenna was sure his face would break. “I have to go, I guess I’ll see you sometime then?”

 

Kenna tried to smile back without turning pink. “Yeah, totally!” She chuckled awkwardly, sending him two thumbs-up as he disappeared into the ground with a wave. 

 

As soon as he was out of sight, the blonde was surprised she didn’t fall over from her sudden lack of adrenaline.  _ Holy shit,  _ she thought.   _ Holy shit.  _ She took a calming breath, looking out to the crowd of humanity milling around the narrow halls of the exhibit.  _ He had a masterpiece of a face.  _

 

_ ~El Fin… for now…~ _


	2. Polaroid

**_Fic #2: Polaroid_ **

**_Author’s Note: To My Queen: This fic was inspired by those polaroids that we took together that I still carry around everywhere with me. Every time I take out my keys or my wallet or open my drawer, I see a cute Polaroid of us and it just makes me happy. I hope you enjoy this one (even though I'm pretty sure you read it already) and don't hate me for the awkwardness, I really tried._ **

**_Love, The Dark Queen_ **

 

Kenna wanted to punch herself. It had been a simple mistake-- she hadn’t meant for this to happen, but of course with her rotten luck, it had all come to this. 

 

She had been stupid. It was a bright little music festival, one of the few that took place in the tiny town Kenna and her friends lived in. Surrounded by crowds and feathers and music and outfits that were too crazy to even fathom, the entire friend group had brought along cameras to capture all these moments and eternalize them on a digital screen.

 

But Kenna had always loved polaroids. 

 

She spent the day taking polaroids at every chance, shaking them furiously with her friend Isha at every moment they weren’t taking more. 

 

She didn’t get to go through them until the last day of the festival when she got home. Most of them were bursts of color, some were blurry, others were worthwhile.

 

There was one picture that stood out to Kenna in particular, however. She wasn’t sure what she had been trying to take a picture of, but somehow, the camera was focused on a certain figure who stood out against the darker background. Wearing a yellow hoodie, he peered straight into the camera, eyes piercing Kenna’s even as she looked at the photo days later.  _ He’s hot,  _ was the first thought that crossed her mind. 

 

So it didn’t seem that weird when she tucked the photo into the side of her wallet. 

 

Not until now, at least. She had been forced to go shopping by her roommates, and walking out the store, she found herself bumping into a random stranger, sending her wallet (which she had still been holding) cluttering to the ground in a mess of polaroids, change, and dollar bills. Cursing, Kenna knelt to gather them, putting her shopping bags on the ground to attend to the task.

 

“I’m so sorry,” the boy who bumped into her exclaimed, dropping to help her. “I wasn’t looking where I was going! Let me do it, it was my fault.” 

 

Kenna was about to decline when she saw his face. Her veins froze, at first wondering if she had seen him before. The fact that he was  _ that boy  _ chilled her bones all at once, leaving her looking at him like she was an idiot. 

 

The boy went on chattering, not even looking at her, picking everything up and trying to sort it nicely into the embroidered purse that had been a birthday present. Dread crept up Kenna’s veins, but now she couldn’t even remember why. 

 

When the boy paused his chattering, her brain recalled why. He had finished picking up the money, now moving on to the pictures as he filed them away in the little clear pocket on the side of the wallet. He stopped talking as he came across a specific photo, even though it was clear he had been trying his best not to look.

 

“I--”

 

“Is that me?” 

 

Kenna didn’t know what to say. 

 

“It is. Was that at the festival last summer?” He squinted.

 

“I took a lot of random pictures,” Kenna mumbled. “I don’t know how that ended up in my wallet. I didn’t even remember taking that one.”

 

The boy nodded understandingly. “That’s a weird coincidence either way,” he remarked, standing up as he tucked the last photo into the wallet, handing it back to her. “Almost like it was fate.”

 

“Fate?” Kenna responded, eyes furrowing. 

 

“Yeah. If I hadn’t seen that, I probably wouldn’t’ve ever seen you again after this.” He said.

 

“Is that saying that you  _ will  _ see me after this?”

 

“If you want to,” he mumbled, a blush spreading across his cheeks. Kenna noticed with a flush of her own that he had a perfect little mole under one of his eyes. “I’m Youngjae.”

 

“I’m Kenna, and I swear I’m not a creepy stalker.” 

 

The way that Youngjae laughed was probably worth all the embarrassment of that one stupid polaroid picture. 

 

_ ~El Fin… for now~ _


	3. Forgotten

**_Fic #3: Forgotten_ **

**_Author’s Note: To My Queen: I am so sorry this fic happened. You suggested and angst fic and I did this. I really must apologize. I know you don't like sad endings, so I tried my hardest to think of angst with happy endings… I was going to do a cliche coma!fic, but then I found this old plot from an unfinished fanfic from years ago featuring your least-favorite asshole (our probs know who it is by now) so I decided to rewrite it with Youngjae… and the ending may not be the happiest... I'm so sorry my writing exists._ **

**_Love you to bits,_ **

**_The Dark Queen_ **

 

Kenna blinked, trying to see through her tears.  _ I can be calm.  _ It had been six months.  _ Six whole months.  _ Around one hundred and eighty three days. Four thousand three hundred and ninety two hours. Two hundred and sixty three thousand, five hundred and twenty minutes. Fifteen million, eight hundred and eleven thousand, two hundred seconds, if she were to calculate it to that extent. 

 

It had been that long since she’d been forgotten. 

 

_ Forgotten.  _ Even the word itself was lonely. It had a melancholic lull to it, and the sound of the word itself filled her with dreaded nostalgia, with tears pushing at her eyes, threatening to spill. If this had been a cheesy romance novel in which everything always turned out wonderfully (which was never true in real life) then maybe she would've had hope. She’d have been saying something along the lines of:  _ “He’ll remember me, and if he doesn't, I'll wait for him until he will,”  _ or  _ “I’ll spend a lifetime redoing everything before I give up on him.”  _

 

But real life was different. It was  _ way _ , way different. She wanted to say something like that, she wanted to make proclamations of her love and fly it over the hospital like a banner, she wanted to kiss him until she couldn't breathe. 

 

But what wasn't something she could do. For even imagining the prospect that he would never remember her again made her feel sick and dizzy, and she’d cry again and get another horrible migraine after which she’d be depressed for hours and the days afterward. It seemed to become routine-- everything around her constantly reminded her of  _ him.  _ Nothing but  _ him.  _ And the reminder was painful. 

 

It may have seemed cheesy, but everything traced back to him somehow: he’d become the other half of her life, and whenever she saw anything that somehow reminded her of him, her heart couldn't help but pang.  _ Why him? Why us?  _

 

Kenna wondered constantly if he was the one paying for her evil deeds, or maybe for her sin in another life. She wondered if this was all her fault. Depending on what mood she was in, she’d decide either that it was fate and she was meant to suffer or that it was all her fault that her boyfriend had to go through all of this. 

 

And sometimes it was both. 

 

No matter when this issue flitted through her mind however, it never end seemed to hurt her any less. Over the past six months, stepping into her boyfriend’s hospital room and being considered a stranger hadn't become any easier. 

 

So now Kenna stood, eyes flickering up nervously towards the doorknob but staying locked on the shiny tile floor otherwise. Her hand hovered between her and the door, unsure whether she actually wanted to go in or not. 

 

Kenna wanted to see him-- yes, very badly so. But at the same time, it hurt to see him that way. With bandages and now-faded cuts, looking at her with a bright smile and uneasy eyes, welcoming but worried as though looking at some ghost from his past that he could not remember.

 

It should have angered Kenna-- at least, it would have angered her on a regular basis, but the past six months had been anything but regular, and the regular Kenna had become a quiet, hesitant, depressed girl who spent most of her time sleeping and crying and wondering what to do with her suddenly suffocatingly empty life. 

 

_ Stop being a baby.  _ Kenna swallowed.  _ You love him.  _ It had always been her dream to love and be loved. She had wanted a Valentine and a partner and a cute significant other for so long, and when she finally got what she had dreamed of, it was snatched away from her. 

 

Shoving her thoughts aside, Kenna acted upon her (quite questionable) instincts and opened the door in one fell swoop, attempting to look confident in the process but just accomplishing looking slightly stupid as she swung the door open with a  _ bang  _ and inhaled a choked gasp of sterile hospital air from inside the well furnished, massive room. “H-hello.” She gulped, coughing on the extra air she’d swallowed. “I-uh… Good morning- afternoon, Youngjae.” 

 

Kenna’s hand dropped from the doorknob as she pushed the door closed behind her, the vibrant pink blush on her cheeks receding as she collected her bearings and clicked her heels together in the awkward silence. 

 

“Good afternoon, Miss Kenna!” Youngjae responded cheerfully, smile stretching across his face. No matter how friendly he seemed, Kenna knew that smile was for everyone. She missed the cute smile he reserved just for her-- the one that seemed to light up her whole day. 

 

“I brought something for you today.” Kenna mumbled. 

 

“Really?” Youngjae almost looked guilty. “You didn't have to get me anything.” 

 

“I…” Kenna collected her thoughts, trying to steady her breathing as she pretended to not notice Youngjae’s statement. “I think you’ll like it.”

 

Youngjae just smiled in response, awkwardly dragging his fingers through the sheets as he fought for something to say. 

 

Kenna hated the silence. She  _ hated  _ it. They had gotten past this years ago-- but back then the silence had been full of apprehension and awkward chuckles.

 

Now it was heavy, like the tension weighing down her stomach, making her feel like she didn't belong here.

 

Kenna pursed her lips and pulled a chair to the side of the bed and sat in it, the cold metal pressing uncomfortably against her bare legs. She set her tote on the ground next to her, with it leaning on a chair leg, and then rested her hands in her knees, trying to look as familiar as possible and repeating things she’d said and done with him. She’d do anything to make him remember.

 

Hell, at this point, Kenna was ready to be subject to any horror of the world- physical abuse or mental abuse or horrendous gore or stomach-wrenchingly sick things or-  _ pretty much anything  _ if it would get her Youngjae back. 

 

She wanted her little sunshine back. She wanted sweet Youngjae, who screamed and scared easily and sang like an angel and would write songs when he couldn't sleep and would blush at kiss scenes and bring her flowers and coffee and take care of her on her period and try to and dial and baking and fangirl over Coco and call her continuously every time he had to leave for more than a day or two. 

 

Kenna wanted her Youngjae back. The one who was unexpectedly brave and ready to stand up for her, the one that was sometimes easily depressed and other times clingy and sucked at acting and charades and would always forget important things like paying the bills and would be so engulfed in his music and his work he would forget anything else existed. 

 

But that was better than being forgotten like this. 

 

Kenna sat there for another moment, feeling Youngjae’s eyes pressing against her. “So, I brought you this,” she said slowly, reaching into her bag when she could find no better opening into the conversation. 

 

She pulled out one of Youngjae’s song books, clad in little scribbles of his handwriting and decorated with little printed pictures of Coco and Kenna herself. 

 

He took it into his hands as though it would shatter if he touched it, eyes skimming the surface, a faraway look in his eyes. “You’re on the cover,” he said weakly. 

 

“Yeah,” Kenna laughed shakily, trying to be cheerful.  _ Why can’t this be as easy as in my daydreams?,  _ she thought for a moment before dropping it-- if everything worked out in real life like it worked out in her dreams, then she’d have been queen of the world and she’d have a heck lot of servants. And clothes. And she’d have Youngjae back. 

 

“Why, um… thank you, I guess,” Youngjae shrugged with a laugh. “I really appreciate your kindness. I really do.”

 

Kenna just nodded mutely.

 

“I really could never repay you,” Youngjae smiled. “You make me feel so loved.”

 

“I wish you did the same for me,” the biting words fell from Kenna’s lips before she could give herself a chance to screen them. She wasn't even sure where they has come from. Youngjae looked bewildered, but something in Kenna had cracked, and she didn't want to stop now. “I'm sorry,” she mumbled. “I shouldn't be saying such things, especially when it's not your fault at all,” tears threatened to flood her eyes, eyesight going bleary. “I just…” she shocked her head. “Forget it.”

 

“Tell me,” Youngjae’s voice seemed sure, the more sure she’d seen him in months. “What is it that's bothering you, Miss Kenna?”

 

“Don't call me that,” Kenna replied, wiping a tear that managed to escape. “You know how much that hurts, Youngjae?”

 

“I'm sorry, I was just trying to be polite--”

 

“I know. I know.” Her tone was exasperated now, wondering how much longer she could take this. “You’re not doing any of this on purpose but… Youngjae, you’re ripping me apart.” 

 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

“I don't want you to be sorry. It doesn't matter if you are. I just really want to be loved, okay?” Kenna was full-on crying now, not even self conscious of what he would think. “I love you, Youngjae, and I always did. I thought I found something that was forever, something special, but it was all ripped away because karma is a bitch,” She paused, wondering if she could go on without having a nervous breakdown. “I'm sorry you’re going through all this, I really am. And sometimes I wonder if it's my fault. But more than that, I'm upset because even after all those months since you’ve woken up, you distance yourself from me and act like I'm just another visitor, like I don't matter.”

 

“But I--”

 

Kenna shook her head, stopping him before he got another word out. “I love you Youngjae, I really do. And I know that you’re probably terrified because you can't remember half the people in your life and you hurt everywhere and you don't know what the fuck happened… but you’re not giving me a chance.” 

 

“I’m trying, Kenna. I really did. I can't remember you. I'm so sorry.” Youngjae looked so guilty that Kenna almost gave in.

 

Almost.

 

“I'm not mad at you for not remembering me and you and how much I loved you,” Kenna replied, voice cracking as she grabbed her tote and walked towards the door. “I'm just sad that you won't let me try to love you all over again.” 

 

Youngjae started to say something, but Kenna really wasn’t in the mood to cry in front of him any longer. Wiping her eyes on her rough sweater sleeve, she fled the building with what seemed like super speed, tears failing to cease all the way. 

 

~ **_Forgotten~_ **

 

“Come on, Kenna, you have to eat.” Isha was sitting at Kenna’s breakfast table, wearing an odd pout as she begged her friend to complete basic human tasks. “You’re gonna get sick,”

 

“I don't care,” Kenna grumbled in response. The heartache from the past few days since the visit had faded into a dull sadness and made Kenna feel depressed and angry, which had been mostly the makeup up her emotions for the past several months. 

 

“Please,” Isha pleaded, only to be met with a grumble. “Fine, if you don't eat, I won't eat.”

 

“That's emotional blackmail and you know it,” Kenna groaned from the couch, sounding very pissed off.

 

“I learned from the best,” Isha responded, before giving up on her wayward tactics and bringing over a bowl of cereal to Kenna and attempting to feed her instead. 

 

“I'm not going to eat,” Kenna protested, sounding like a toddler at this point. 

 

“If you don't eat, I'm gonna cry.” Isha threatened. Kenna huffed, seeing the fake tears tears already welling up in Isha’s eyes. 

 

“You’re so evil,” Kenna remarked as she took the spoon from her friend’s hand, still refusing to be fed. 

 

“I'm honored,” The black-haired girl responded, but not without a hint of concern and adoration in her tone.

 

It was in this mildly peaceful moment that the ring of Kenna’s phone cut through the air, all the way from the other side of the apartment. 

 

“Are you going to pick up?” Isha asked, looking up at Kenna from the floor.

 

“Hell no,” the latter grumbled again, face now stuffed in a pillow.

 

“What if it's important?”

 

“I don't give a flying fuck.” With a sigh, Isha left Kenna with the food to go check on the call, just in case it was truly something that needed to be picked up. Kenna noticed the ravenette’s absence and caught her eye as she walked back into the room. “Who is it?” 

 

Isha’s face was lit with an odd kind of veiled excitement and disbelief. “It’s him.”

 

Kenna nearly launched herself off the couch, grabbing the phone as if it were a lifeline. She tapped the ‘receive call’ button as fast as she possibly could, voice trembling as she held the phone to her ear. 

 

“Is this Kenna?” The voice was crackly, but so unmistakably Youngjae’s. 

 

“Youn-Youngjae!” Kenna stammered.  _ Is this too good to be true? _

 

_ “ _ Oh, good, it's the right number,” the boy chuckled awkwardly, and Kenna could almost imagine the way he would scratch his ear after he failed to think of something to say in a conversation. 

 

“... what did you want to say?”

 

Youngjae seemed to take a deep breath at the particular question. “Well, I… I thought about what you said.”

 

Kenna was holding her breath now.

 

“And I want to apologize. I really didn't give you a chance, did I?” He laughed then, making Kenna’s heart feel lighter. Was this progress? “So, I… well, I read the songbook, you see, and… I feel horrible because I can't remember you, Kenna, but if there’s one thing that I know, it's that I loved you with all my heart and you loved me back at least twice as much.”

 

Kenna’s fingers were trembling now as she desperately tried to hold the phone to her ear so she could hear every last word. 

 

“... and while I can't bring back the memories that I lost, I  _ can  _ make new ones, can't I?” He was smiling, Kenna knew it. “I know and I believe with my whole heart that I can fall in love with you again, and maybe, just maybe, it'll help you with the pain of losing me once.” 

 

Kenna let out a bark of laughter, seemingly random in the situation. 

 

“What's so funny?” He asked, voice mounting in panic.

 

“Nothing,” Kenna wheezed. “Just that you sound so cliche, like some type of rom com actor,” 

 

“Is that bad?”

 

“No, I rather like it,” Kenna confessed.

 

“Well, I guess that's good. Since you’re into the classic rom com, then, maybe we could see a movie together?” 

 

_ Did he just ask me on a date? _

 

“How?” That was the first question to fall out of Kenna’s mouth. “You’re still not feeling well--”

 

“The wonders of Netflix and a laptop,” Youngjae interjected smoothly, playfulness flowing through even just his voice. When Kenna didn't respond for a long moment, he swallowed. “Hello?” 

 

“Sorry, yeah… I just got lost for a moment there,” the smile on Kenna’s face was unmatchable, growing bigger and bigger by the second. “I would love to watch Netflix on a crappy laptop in a sterile-smelling hospital room with you,” 

 

“I’ll see you Tuesday during visiting hours, then?” 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“See you.”

 

“Bye.”

 

“Bye.” 

 

Youngjae put down the phone first, but the unspoken “I love you” that should've come at the end of the call still lingered in the air. 

 

Isha looked psyched, staring at Kenna in expectation. “So??” She asked. “What did he say??”

 

Her question was met with a bone crushing hug as Kenna tried to get all her giddy emotions out into her best friend. There was still an ounce of sadness weighing down her heart-- Youngjae might never remember all that had happened between them before the accident. He might have forgotten every memory they had made together.

 

But he was still willing to start again.

 

And Kenna knew Youngjae, almost as well as the back of her own hand-- and she would do everything possible to rebuild what had been lost on top of the old cracked foundation of years past. 

 

It wasn't perfect, but it was a start-- a start that Kenna was perfectly okay with. 

 

~ _ El Fin…. for now~ _

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE YOU BABE!!! Happy Birthday, and I hope you enjoyed these horrible pieces of writing I barfed up... If anything about them bothers you, do tell-- I wrote these at night, each one in one sitting, with no editing, so I haven't really caught all the mistakes yet. 
> 
> I love you to bits!! You're a perfect and adorable human being and I'm so lucky to have you!!!! I have never loved someone more!!!
> 
> All the love and kisses in the entire world~~~
> 
> The Dark Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it :) <3


End file.
